


Chasing Light

by gengar



Category: Free!
Genre: Drinking, Fluff, Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Eternal Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 08:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2844533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gengar/pseuds/gengar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is nothing short of perfect, from the atmosphere to the company to the taste of the champagne they popped open only minutes ago and are currently enjoying in elegant sips between bites of food and peals of laughter.  Rin couldn’t ask for a more perfect evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QueenPotatos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenPotatos/gifts).



> Here it is, my submission for the HaruRinHaru Christmas Exchange for the lovely [QueenPotatos](http://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenPotatos/pseuds/QueenPotatos)!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fic and have a lovely holiday season!

There’s salt in the warm, summer air, the lingering heat of the day cut by the breeze coming in from the ocean not too far from their restaurant.  The cry of seagulls and the crashing waves are background noise, barely heard over the sound of clinking glasses and cutlery on plates; barely noticed over the amicable conversation which has settled over the table of six.  Though it’s late for dinner, the long summer days persist through the evening, bathing the sky in what feels like an eternal sunset.  Everything is nothing short of perfect, from the atmosphere to the company to the taste of the champagne they popped open only minutes ago and are currently enjoying in elegant sips between bites of food and peals of laughter.

Rin couldn’t ask for a more perfect evening.  Especially when they’re riding in the wake of a victory that no one can stop talking about: Rin taking first in two butterfly events, and Haruka shattering a tournament record without batting so much as an eyelash.  The only thing that could possibly make this victory better would be two medals from the medley relay, but that’s a far off, beautiful dream, for a time when he and Haruka aren’t still an ocean and a world apart.

A smile tugs at his lips and at his heart as his eyes slide over to Haruka, quietly cutting into his smoked mackerel fillet, champagne glass already half empty.  Rin almost scoffs - he’s barely taken three sips of his own (he can’t say he loves it, not as much as everyone else seems to) - which puts him at a disadvantage.  Though he never expected Haruka to put away the champagne as quickly as he is, but he’s also never seen him take so much as a single sip of alcohol.  _Ever._

Not that they’ve had many occasions to drink together; not that he spends much time inebriated himself.

(Not when he has a million other things to do, most of which include swimming.  Not when every second of every day is spent pushing himself forward and _succeeding_.  He rarely has time in his life for things that aren’t swimming, but he’ll make time for them anyway - especially if they’re his friends; _especially_ if they’re Haruka.)

When Haruka looks up and over at him, his heart flutters and his stomach flips, but he doesn’t look away.  Not when everything - the chatter, the sounds of the sea, and the smell of the salty water - fades to the background, like hushed whispers drowning underneath the sound of his beating heart.  It picks up as if he’s just started running, a blush rising to his cheeks that has absolutely nothing to do with the (three tiny sips of) alcohol.  He smiles and Haruka watches him in that cryptic, unreadable way of his before he smiles back.  And Rin’s heart stops.

It takes him a couple seconds to jumpstart his system enough to think of something to say, but it’s Nagisa who speaks for him, seated across from him at the table and wearing the same jubilant smile that will probably define him for years to come.

“Wow, Haru-chan.  You must _really_ like that champagne,” he says teasingly, smiling around the lip of his own flute.

Haruka, who was in the middle of taking a sip, looks away from Rin and back to the food in front of him as he sets the flute down.  “I don’t.”

The laugh Nagisa gives him says he clearly doesn’t believe him.  Rin hardly knows what to believe himself, especially when he’s downing it so fast.  But instead of goading Haruka on, Nagisa turns to Rin.  “And you’ve barely had _any_ ,” he says, gesturing to the still-full flute in front of Rin.  “C’mon _Rinrin_ , catch up!  You don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

The small, ever-burning flame of competition that Rin still has left after such an exhausting day is sparked, quietly begging him to rise to the challenge and show them just how much champagne he can put away (not much at all).  He could even turn it into a challenge aimed at Haruka - a drinking contest, of course - but that small, sensible part of him, the part whose muscles are sore from intense competition and who still has to wake up for practice tomorrow, knows that would be the most idiotic thing he could do tonight.  So he laughs instead, deep and throaty and happy.  “This’s a _celebration_.  Not a party.”

“You say that like the two aren’t mutually exclusive…” Nagisa mutters with a pout, earning himself a placating comment from Makoto and an exasperated sigh from Rei.

But Rin’s not looking at them anymore.  Even his sister fades to the background as his attention returns to Haruka.

“What’s the rush?” he asks as he leans toward Haruka with a wolfish grin.  “The week wasn’t _that_ stressful.”

Haruka rewards his teasing efforts with a roll of his eyes.  “ _You’re_ the one who ordered it,” he says, nodding to Rin’s glass.  Rin can’t help the long-suffering sigh that escapes his lips as he finally reaches for the damn flute and takes a swig from it in the most classless way possible.

“Happy?” he asks.

Haruka shrugs, but Rin can see the ghost of a smile playing on his lips and it makes him laugh.

So he takes another sip.  And another.  And by the time he makes it to the bottom of the glass, the bitter, biting taste of the crisp and bubbly champagne has faded into something much more pleasant.  There’s a warm hum settling into his head and in the pit of his stomach, bringing quiet laughs to his lips much more liberally than they would’ve otherwise.

‘So, this is what it’s like to feel buzzed,’ he thinks, as he flags a waiter down and orders another bottle in English.  This is somehow understood by Nagisa, who cheers (quietly, after a look from Rei).

“I’m still not over Haru’s tournament record,” Rin says, as the waiter refills their flutes.

Rei adjusts his glasses, his own flute still full as he happily takes his time.  “Indeed.  Watching you glide through the water like that was inspiriting, Haruka-senpai.  Your form is still so perfect!”  The smile he wears is proud, and all it takes is one look around the table to notice the rest of them are wearing identical ones.

“Haruka-senpai’s been working so hard in Tokyo, huh?” Gou says, turning away from her conversation with Makoto over university.  “It’s certainly showing!  --In more than just your muscles, of course.”

There’s a quiet round of laughter from everyone, including Haruka.  Makoto’s smile softens.  “He has been,” he says.  “Haru’s in the pool almost seven days a week now.  He works hard.”

This earns a sigh from Haruka as he chews and swallows another bite of his mackerel.  “I’m not your senpai anymore,” he mutters, giving both Rei and Gou significant looks.  “And Rin’s butterfly was beautiful too.”  

Rin’s head immediately snaps toward Haruka, a blush rising to his already pink cheeks.  Haruka’s rarely complimented his butterfly before - he only swims _free_ , after all - so the words both shock and excite him.  He’s not sure if Haruka’s actually being complimentary, however, or just trying to throw the topic of conversation in his direction.  He knows how much the mooning bothers him.  But even still, the way Haruka looks at him pointedly makes his heart race again.

“I’m not the one with the grace of a dolphin in the water, you know,” he retorts, leaning toward Haruka.  Despite how flustered he feels, he still manages a teasing grin as he cocks an eyebrow and rests against the side of his chair.  “Sometimes I wonder if you’re a mermaid.”

Haruka’s eye roll is subtle, but it speaks volumes.  Still, he can’t seem to shake the tiny smile thats clings to his lips and it makes Rin’s heart beat faster.  “If I were, I would be a mer _man_ ,” he says.  “But what does that make you?”

“Huh?”

“A shark, definitely,” Nagisa cuts in, and he’s met with a collective hum of approval.

“What?!”

When Rin looks back over at Haruka, he’s smiling.  “Mm, that works,” he says, tapping his fingers against the stem of his flute thoughtfully.  “Whenever you’re behind me in a race, I feel like I’m going to get _bitten_.”

Rin’s first instinct is to blush furiously and reach over to punch Haruka in the arm.  He hears the hidden implication there, after all; that he’s behind Haruka more times than he’s ahead of him.  But they both know that’s a lie, and he wants to laugh as well.  When they race, they’re always milliseconds apart and he hopes they always will be.  Still, his smirk widens and his heart leaps into his throat.  “Is that a challenge, Nanase?” he asks, before leaning toward him just a little bit further.  “Or an invitation?”

The look Haruka gives him can only be described as flirtatious and it flusters Rin even further.  Maybe he’s being too bold, but it’s hard not to rise to the occasion, especially when Haruka’s the one initiating.  

Parting his lips, Haruka makes as if to answer.  But instead, he takes the last bite of his mackerel onto his fork and slips it between his lips, his eyes never leaving Rin’s.

And what can be say to that?  Especially as the heat rises inside him, consuming his neck and ears and leaving him breathless.  His eyes don’t leave Haru’s either as he reaches for his champagne glass and takes a shaky sip.

This kind of back and forth isn’t strange to them.  As stoic and unflappable as Haruka can be, Rin’s always been able to pull teasing comments and irregular behavior out of him.  Rin’s often wondered if Haruka’s recognized this as flirting, however, because it has been - for _years_.  Every stolen glance and careless touch - every arm slung over a shoulder.  Every photo and comment has been laced with some kind of hopeful flirtatiousness, driven only by devoted adoration.

It took Rin years to finally figure _that_ out.

They’ve been flirting all weekend - or, at least, Rin’s been flirting with _Haruka_ all weekend.  As much as he tries not to, he could hardly help himself once Haruka arrived in his hotel, Japan still clinging to him like a second skin.  With only a wall separating them instead of an entire ocean, Rin could hardly hold himself back from subtly touching Haruka in every way he could, showering him with smiles and laughs as his heart threatened to explode in his chest.  Seeing Haruka in persona again - _racing_ him again - reignited a fire in him that no Australian swim team ever could.  

Being apart did little to temper Rin’s feelings, especially knowing that Haruka has been in Tokyo the past two years, chasing the same dream as him - that he’s been chasing _after_ him, planning to enter the same world as him.  And knowing that has only made his feelings grow stronger in the years that they’ve spent apart.

He knew it was only a matter of time before they’d both be together, striving for greatness, achieving the unachievable.  Before they’d be at the Olympics together, cheering each other on in their individual heats and winning gold in the medley relay.  It was all he ever wanted, after all.

Because without Haruka paving the way ahead of him, how could he know how to move forward?

It really doesn’t help how in love he’s been since he was just so young (despite never really knowing it, never really _understanding_ it).  He’s always been content to ignore those feelings, however - to let them rest inside of him - because knowing they exist both thrills and terrifies him.  And as long as he has Haruka in his life, he doesn’t need to verbalize or pursue them.

The problem is, the longer those feelings sit inside of him - nestled in his heart, growing bigger and stronger by the day - the longer they want to be acknowledged.  And now that they’re together again, chasing international competitions across Europe, he can’t help the desire to be close to Haruka; to touch him and reach out to him and covet his smiles.

He can’t help but want more.

But does Haruka want the same thing?

Honestly, he can’t tell.  And he’s terrified of asking.

As strong as their relationship has become now - especially as they chase their dreams together, keeping each other motivated with text messages and letters and video calls - he’s still afraid of how fragile it might become under the weight of his expectations.  He knows now that Haruka could never hate him, but is it really worth taking the risk if the end results aren’t the ones Rin wants?

Maybe it’s just easier to hold onto his feelings; to treasure them and nothing more.

But when Haruka flirts back like this, it gives him the deadliest feeling of all: a glimmer of hope.  And as he looks at Haruka now, he feels the swell of love in his chest, the aching of his heart and the quiet thrumming that he’s come to expect when he sees Haruka smile.  And he can’t help but smile back.

“Wow.”

And just like that, the spell is broken as Nagisa laughs quietly to himself.  “Get a room, you two.”

Rin’s face immediately flushes, his head snapping up toward Nagisa as he chokes on his words.  “Wh—“  As flirtatious as he’s become, this is the last thing he’s ever wanted.  A spike of fear penetrates his warm and beating heart as his mind reels.  What if this ruins everything, what if Haruka doesn’t know, _what if_ —

“But we already have rooms,” Haruka says, his eyebrows knitting together, confusion written in his features.  Rin isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh or to cry.

“That’s not what I meant,” Nagisa says with a wink, earning another bemoaning cry from Rin.  But Haruka just tilts his head, shakes it, and shrugs before finishing off his second flute of champagne.

After a moment, Rin lets out a shaky sigh of relief.  His eyes return to Haruka, studying his features as if they’ll answer any of his lingering questions.  Haruka doesn’t look mad or pissed, and that glimmer of hope, faded under the fear of rejection, returns tenfold.

Because if Haruka isn’t denying it now - that _painfully obvious_ jab from Nagisa - then maybe he has a chance after all.

And that’s, quite possibly, the worst thing for him right now, especially as his head continues to swim from the long sips of champagne he takes to calm his nerves.  The last thing he needs is to hope.

 

  

The smell and taste of the salt in the sea breeze only grows stronger as the sun begins to dip towards the horizon.  The cry of gulls grows louder in the dusky evening, though they sound so far away compared to the pleasant humming in Rin’s heart, a combination of his fourth glass of champagne and the feeling of Haruka’s knee pressed up against his.

“And this guy in my class actually expected me to hand over my notes just because he’d been sleeping all semester and we had a conversation, like, _once_ ,” Gou rambles on, a little flushed in the face and more giggly than she should’ve been.  As it turns out, she can be a little verbose when she’s buzzed (a thought which still has Rin on the edge of his seat in nervousness.  He makes a note to thank Makoto and Rei for secretly volunteering to see her back to her hotel room later, even though it isn’t that far).

Rin snorts at the story, but Nagisa laughs the loudest of all.

“He sounds like Seiji-chan from my biology class!” he says, slapping his knee and drawing attention from some of the restaurant’s other patrons.

“I thought _you_ were the one skipping classes and asking for notes,” Rei says, his face a healthy shade of cherry tomato red.

Nagisa pauses and then grins sheepishly.  “Oh yeah.”

“You’re never going to learn like that, Nagisa,” Makoto chides, an uncharacteristic whine in his voice, hidden just underneath the small slur that’s begun to make itself apparent.  Rin can’t help but snicker and, next to him, Haruka is smiling.

His knee hasn’t moved yet.  

(Rin hopes it never does.)

“That’s what I keep telling him, Makoto-senpai!” Rei says, shaking his head slowly.  “He’s still trying to borrow my old class notes.”

“I’m right here, you know.”  Nagisa pouts.

There’s a silence that hangs in the air before the table erupts in laughter.  Even Haruka is laughing now, hiding his smile behind his hand, though Rin can still see it.  It makes his heart thump louder against his chest and his head spin - though that could just be the alcohol.

(He’s almost positive it isn’t.)

Noticing Haruka’s glass of champagne is empty, Rin reaches for it just as Makoto begins regaling the table with tales of his part-time job at a local swim club in Tokyo, sharing stories about some of the kids that he coaches on weeknights.  Rin only pauses when he realizes how warm the stem of Haruka’s flute is, and it takes him a few seconds before he notices that’s because his fingers aren’t touching glass.  They’re wrapped around Haruka’s.

Looking over at him, their eyes connect and Haruka says nothing, making no move to pull his hand back nor break eye contact.  Rin feels his face getting warmer under his stare and it takes every ounce of willpower left not to yank his hand away or say something stupid.

“What, don’t want any more?” he asks instead, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as hoarse as he thinks it does.

Haruka’s silent for a moment, his expression so unreadable and calm, like the surface of a pond not yet disturbed by a throwing stone.  “…I do.”

Rin’s smile widens and he makes a small tug at Haruka’s flute.  “Then I’ll pour it for you.”

“Don’t,” Haruka says, his grip on his glass and Rin’s fingers tightening.  Rin’s skin tingles at all the points where their hands connect.

“C’mon,” Rin says, tugging a little harder.  “Let me be a gentleman tonight, huh?”

Haruka cocks an eyebrow, but his grip loosens, letting Rin pull the flute from his grasp.  “The operative word being _tonight_ ,” he says.

Rin audibly snorts as he grabs their table’s fourth bottle of champagne.  “You _wound me_ , Haru!” he says, but he can’t stop the smile that’s spread across his lips.  As he looks over at Haruka, handing him his glass, he can’t help but notice how warm and beautiful his smile is, stretching across his lips and tugging at the corners in the most perfect way.  He could almost melt staring for too long, as if looking at the surface of the sun itself.

Haruka takes his glass and their knees brush again, sending a wave of goosebumps across Rin’s skin.  He shivers and feels the flush deepen across his cheeks, hoping he can blame the still-warm summer breeze.  He wonders if it would be considered inappropriate to slide his hand onto Haruka’s thigh underneath the table, to squeeze his knee teasingly and meaningfully; he wonders what Haruka would do.  If they were dating, that’s definitely something he would do without a second thought, a subtle reminder that Haruka’s seated there next to him, physical and whole and as beautiful as the last time they saw each other.

(He’s almost positive this is the champagne talking.)

“So ungrateful!  After I took you to Australia and everything,” Rin moans, trying to distract himself and Haruka from their touching knees and his tingling fingers.

Haruka shrugs, lifting the glass to his lips but not taking a sip.  “Call it payback,” he says.

“For what.”

“For the time you cried on my face.”

Rin almost chokes on air as he stares openly at Haruka’s bemused and (hopefully) loving expression.  There isn’t a hint of anger or bitterness there and Rin feels relief wash over him in waves.  

“Sure, Haru,” he says, his smile teasing.  Lifting up his glass, he holds it to Haruka’s invitingly.  “To us?” he asks, almost hesitant.

But Haruka raises his glass and clinks it against Rin’s shyly.  As if he’s never done this before.  (Neither has Rin.)  “To us,” he says.  “And the team.”

And Rin thinks that maybe he could cry hearing those words from Haruka’s lips (words he could never tire of hearing him say).  He almost does, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes begin to sting.  It’s Nagisa and Gou’s loud voices that draw him back to the present, reminding him that this isn’t a romantic dinner date for two.

“For the team!” Nagisa cheers happily, raising his glass in a toast that they all join in on.  As flutes clink together against the background of the setting sun, Rin’s heart feels lighter than it has in a long time.  He’s missed all of them so much, more than words could possibly convey.

“You know,” Nagisa says, as they lower their glasses and take sips of champagne, “I’m starting to think that we’re all a third wheel to this date.”  He motions between Haruka and Rin.

For the second time that night, Rin’s heart stops in his chest.  The healthy flush on his cheeks begins to drain to white and his eyes dart to Nagisa.

“What’re you talking about?” Haruka mumbles around his flute.  “This isn’t a date.”

It isn’t, Rin concedes.  This _definitely isn’t a date_.  If it were, his friends certainly wouldn’t be there and he wouldn’t be this close to drunk.  They’d be sitting on the beach somewhere, holding hands and watching the sun set and talking about their dreams.  But even if it isn’t, Haruka’s words cause Rin’s heart to drop into his stomach.

Why won’t Nagisa _stop teasing them_?  He knows he does it, but why, why, _why_ —

“You two are certainly acting like you’re on one.”  Nagisa’s grin is wide and teasing.

“Nagisa-kun—“ Rei starts.

Rin spares a look at Haruka, noticing the confusion wrought in his features: his eyebrows drawn together, lips turned down in a frown, eyes clouded instead of clear.  “But we’re friends.”

And there it is.

A slow drop and then a quiet shatter, unheard by the other inhabitants of their table.

_Friends._

A while ago, Rin’s heart would’ve soared to hear Haruka call him a friend, but now that it’s been a confirmed fact for so long - now that he’s allowed himself to hope that they could be something _more_ , even just a little - the word still hurts like a stab through the heart.

The smile on Rin’s lips dies and he takes large sips of champagne to hide it.  But he thinks everyone knows, because they’re all looking at him expectantly, even Haruka, whose confusion persists as if to ask ‘what are they talking about?’

But Rin doesn’t answer, because he can’t and because he won’t.

 

 

When dessert comes, Rin finds he isn’t hungry anymore.  As their waiter sets three slices of beautiful chocolate cake on the table, Rin just shakes his head and places his napkin where his plate used to be.  “I think that’s it for me,” he says with a wry smile, moving to fish his wallet out of his pocket so he can drop a few bills on a the table - more than his fair share, his “treat” to his friends for coming all the way to Europe just to see them swim.

The entire table mumbles their dissent, but this is hardly enough to dissuade Rin from standing up and pushing his chair in.

“Aww, Rin-chan!  But the party’s just getting started.  Rei-chan was telling me all about the nightlife here.”

“No, I certainly was not!” Rei cries.  Nagisa elbows him in the side.

Rin laughs, but it sounds hollow and empty, even to him, resounding in his chest like an echo.  “Sorry guys.  Gotta be up early tomorrow for morning practice. I’d _really_ like to avoid a hangover.”  Not that he feels drunk anymore.  The word ‘friends’ was as sobering as a death.

“Alright,” Makoto says, giving him that look that says he understands.  Rin certainly hopes he doesn’t, but he’s too perceptive, so perhaps it would be best to leave before anything else is said.  “See you tomorrow?“

Rin’s smile softens, but inside his chest, his heart still feels like it’s breaking.  He really needs to leave, to hole himself up in his room until he remembers that being Haruka’s friend is no consolation prize; is no second place.  That being Haruka’s friend is everything he ever wanted and it’s all he should ever need.  “Yeah, later.”

He takes off without saying anything to Haruka, no last comments or even a good-bye.  But, then again, Haruka never said anything to him either - Rin hasn’t looked at him in the past fifteen minutes, but he’s almost sure Haruka isn’t staring back.  If he is, it’s probably with that silent stare of his, confusion lingering to make this moment even more of a struggle.

As he exits the restaurant, he looks in the direction of his hotel before he makes for the water instead, not even a short distance from the veranda where he’d sat not even moments before.  He really should back to his room, go back to shower and sleep, but he doesn’t want to.  Not yet.

 

  

It’s pitch black outside now, the unlit beach a blanket of darkness compared to a time not too long ago when it was basked in warmth.  The sand still retains some of that beautiful summer heat, but it’s cooling down now; it feels good against Rin’s feet as he walks toward the black ocean in the distance, his shoes in his hands and his pants rolled up to his knees.

Maybe if he could see the ocean, it would bring his heavy heart some sort of solace.  But he can’t.  It’s just a black mass of water, only the tiny lights of passing ships in the distance enough to show him there’s something there in the darkness.  He remembers when he used to seek the comfort of the beach in Sydney; how, through his tears, it would remind him that Haru was just a world and an ocean away.  But tonight, Haru’s back at the restaurant behind him, and Rin’s alone and hurt and can’t see the sparkling blue that had once been his sanctuary.

“Fuck,” he curses as he kicks the sand in front of him before flopping down onto it.  The water rushes up to greet him, lapping at the very tips of his toes before receding back into the darkness.  Rin watches it through blurred vision, tears welling up in his eyes until they threaten to spill over.

Once the first one slips down his cheek, the emotional dam he’s built begins to crumble.  Drawing his knees up to his chest, Rin drops his shoes and wraps his arms around his legs as he buries his face into his knees.  His shoulders shake with heaving sobs as he curls into himself, wishing for the sea to carry him away until his tears are gone.  Until he can face Haruka without any doubts or pain.

Because nothing is worth losing him again.  Not even this.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he says again, his voice weak and wavering.  And then he begins to cry harder, sobs escaping his lips as he squeezes his eyes shut.  The tears that spill from his eyes are hot, stinging his cheeks and his knees where they fall, his nose leaking harder the longer he wails.  He feels like a child, taken from his home and lost in a world where he’s struggling to get by, to prove himself.  And even if he isn’t - even if he’s years past that, taking on the world with his chin held high - the feelings consume him until they’re all that’s left between his tears and the choking sobs.

He doesn’t stop, even as he hears footsteps running up the sand; even as he hears the panting breath of someone coming up behind him.  All he can do is squeeze his eyes shut even tighter, his teeth biting into his bottom lip to help swallow his sobbing.

“Rin?”

At the sound of Haruka’s voice, Rin’s head immediately shoots up, his tears ceasing almost immediately.  Unwrapping his arms from around his legs, he wipes at his eyes as he grits his teeth angrily.  He shouldn’t be mad at Haruka, not at something so stupid, something he did to only himself, but he can’t face him.  Not right now.

But even through the pain and the quiet hum of bitterness, he still feels touched that Haruka came running after him, especially when he hardly expected him to.

(Why, though?  Should he _really_ be surprised after Haruka came running after him during Regionals, after he’d felt he lost everything, finally hit rock bottom?  He reached out to him them, offering him a world and a sight he’d never seen before.  He _saved_ him.  Should now be any different?)

“Not now, Haru,” he mumbles, trying not to sound as dejected and shitty as he currently feels.  He doesn’t jump up, doesn’t turn around to look at Haruka, not even when he hears him move closer.

“Rin…” Haruka whispers, stopping just a foot behind him.  It isn’t the sound of Haruka’s voice nor the sound of his name that grabs at Rin’s heart, but the way Haruka says it, as if hurting, as if in pain.

Rin finally pushes himself up, turning to face Haruka in the darkness of the beach and in the summer evening.  His heart pounds against his throat as he does, his eyes finally settling on Haruka’s face and taking in what he can with only the moonlight and the distant promise of life to light up his expression.  He can see the visible pain, see the fear in his eyes that seem so familiar and yet so far off, a distant memory of a time spent rolling around in the dirt in desperation.

“Look, I just need…some time alone, okay?” he says, hoping to approach this as calmly as he can.  Maybe if he says something, gives some kind of excuse instead of getting angry and yelling like he wants to, Haruka will understand and go back to their friends.  Because he shouldn’t be here; he should still be celebrating his victory with champagne and dessert and his old swim team.

“But—“

Apparently, Rin’s going to have no such luck.  Sighing, he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose.  His eyes hurt and his nose is running and he just wants to cry until he can’t anymore.  “It’s fine.  Alright?”

He looks up at Haru pleadingly, hoping that he’ll take the hint and go, but they’ve never been the best when it comes to communication.  Because Rin could never read Haruka the way Makoto can, and Haruka, well…

“No, it’s not fine,” he says.  

Haruka’s always been more perceptive than he looks.

“It is.”

Haruka shakes his head almost violently.  “No, it isn’t!” he says, clenching his fists and taking a step closer to Rin.  Rin doesn’t budge.  “You can’t just do this and pretend it’s okay, Rin.”

“Do what?” Rin asks, eyebrows furrowing together.

Haru’s expression is helpless, as if he’s never spoken so many words in his entire life (he probably hasn’t); as if he’s lost with nowhere to turn.  Rin can see the fear in his eyes and it makes his anxiety climb higher.  

“Run away!” Haruka says, all but throwing up his hands as he stares Rin down.

And Rin’s silent, because what the _hell_ is Haruka talking about.  He’s not running away from anything, he’s just… He just needs space.  But the fear and anxiety he can see buried in Haruka’s expression break his heart into tinier pieces.  Because as hard as this is for _him_ , it’s even harder seeing Haruka so scared.  “I’m not running away.  Shit, Haru.”  He smirks wryly in hopes that maybe something he can say will make this easier.  For the both of them.  “What, are you scared?”

Haruka’s expression changes in an instant, his cheeks visibly flustered from what Rin can see in the dim light, his eyes a clear window into the pain he’s so visibly feeling.  “You wouldn’t understand,” he whispers.

Rin feels a hot flash of anger run through him as Haruka stares him down.  Everything about this is so wrong; this is _not_ how he imagined the rest of this evening going.  _Fuck._   “How could I understand, huh?” he asks, stepping forward to poke his finger into Haruka’s chest.  Fuck, fuck, _fuck._   “It’s not like you _tell_ me anything.”

Haruka immediately grabs onto Rin’s hand, holding it tight and pulling him closer so he can continue this ridiculous stare down.  “I do tell you things, Rin!  You just aren’t _listening_.”

“ _I’m_ not listening?  I feel like I’m always listening!”  He wants to tear at his hair, but he can’t.  Not with Haruka’s grip on his hand so tight.  “Or…I’m just waiting for you to say _something_!  But I can’t wait forever.”  Yes he can.  He’ll wait forever and a day of Nanase Haruka, but that’s beside the point now.  Now that he’s mad, now that he’s hurt and his heart is breaking, he just wants time to forget this ever happened.  “I can’t read your mind, Haru.  I’m not Makoto.”

And all Haruka says is, “I know.”

“You _know_?” Rin spits, yanking his hand from Haruka’s before taking a step back.  “—No, Haru, I can’t do this right now, I can’t _fucking do this_.  I just—“

“I _am_ scared, okay?” Haruka says, stepping toward Rin again, his eyes pleading, his expression resolute and broken all at once.  “You got quiet and ran and I got scared!”

“ _What?_ ”  That doesn’t make any sense.  Unless Haruka knew what passed through Rin’s mind the moment he said “friends,” unless Haruka knows what those words did to him— But he can’t jump to conclusions like this.  Not now, _not again_.  “Haru, what the hell are you so _afraid_ of?”

Silence envelopes them, the sounds of the waves crashing upon the shore almost deafening.  Their stare down continues, neither of them wanting to look away, but he can see the signs in Haruka, the signs of him wanting to look anywhere but at Rin.  Especially as something burns bright in his cheeks, be it shame or embarrassment.  He can’t even begin to guess.  Which is why he doesn’t expect the answer that finally comes.

“I’m afraid of losing you again,” Haruka says, breaking eye contact to reach up and run his hands through his hair in a rare display of nervousness.  “I can’t… I don’t want to lose you again, Rin.”

Rin is rendered speechless.  Haruka’s words break his heart even more than he could ever imagine, because the last thing he ever wants is to lose Haruka.  He adores him so much, loves being around him, swimming with him, chasing after him.  His world is brighter with Haruka in it, and losing him is the last thing he could ever want.  It’s one of the things that hurt so much about coming back all those years ago, because Haruka was there and he didn’t know that his own feelings were returned… But now that they’ve grown, he can’t keep them at bay any longer, and it’s killing him.  

“If anyone should be afraid, it’s me.”

Haruka’s eyes widen, his gaze returning to Rin’s face.  “What?”

“I’m… I’m always pushing you!” Rin says, clenching his fists and wanting so badly to look away.  “I’m always _pushing you_ and one day I’m afraid it’s going to be too much.”

“Rin, I don’t understand.”

Rin sighs through clenched teeth.  “What’s _not_ to understand, Haru?  I’m afraid of pushing you too hard, _fuck_.”

“But, I don’t _care_ ,” Haruka says, his eyebrows knitting together, concern written into every feature.  “I don’t—“

“Yes, you do.  Or you will.  _Whatever_ , it’s not important, okay?”  What _is_ important?  Shit, this is really getting out of hand.  Rin is falling apart at the seams and he needs to pull himself together, to have a conversation like this at another time when he’s collected, his mind not running a mile a minute.  At a time when he isn’t seconds away from screaming, when his eyes aren’t swollen and red from crying and his throat hurts from sobbing.  “Fucking _hell_ , I just need, like, ten minutes to myself, okay?  Just _ten minutes_ —“

“Just _tell me_ , Rin!” Haruka says, and Rin can see he’s almost desperate now.  The look in his eyes reminds him of everything they’ve suffered through to be here; reminds him of the million and one reasons why he adores him.  “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me things either!”

Haruka frowns.  “I just _did_ ,” he says.  “And I still am.  So stop avoiding it, _stop it_!  What are you so afraid of?”

Rin feels like a can being shaken too hard, ten seconds and a pop from exploding.  He feels like everything that’s been building up over so long - over so many years - is coming to the surface, clawing its way up from inside of him.  He thought he had better control over these things, over the way he felt, but apparently he’s been lying to himself about that too.  Which is why it doesn’t surprise him when the words finally come tumbling out, each one like a hammer hitting a nail into his coffin.  “I’m afraid of scaring you off because I don’t want to be _just_ friends.  Because I want more from you and I don’t think you can handle the pressure.  Because I _love_ you, okay?”

And then the silence returns, the waves so quiet and far off compared to the sound of the blood rushing to his face, to his heart fluttering against his throat like a caged bird.  _Fuck_.  Fuck fuck _fuck fuck_ ** _fuck_**.  **Fuck.**   He fucked up, and he can see it in Haruka’s lost and open expression, eyes wide and catching the light of the moon.  Tears begin to sting at Rin’s eyes again.

“What?” Haruka asks.

_What?_   That’s all Haruka can say: _what?_   Standing there so lost and clueless, looking terrified and confused and anxious.  Looking so unlike the unflappable Haruka Rin’s always admired, looked up to, chased after.  Even if he’s seen this side of Haruka before, multiple times - even if he still loves this side of Haruka just as much as the others - he still can’t handle it.  He can’t handle _any_ of it, and he needs to get away.  He needs to run away, like Haruka said he would, because this is one problem he can’t face head on.  Not right now, not after fucking up _this badly_.

As he feels the pinpricks of anxiety tugging at his heart, causing his fingers to quake and his heart to pound, he finds his resolve, however misplaced it is, and runs.

Straight into the ocean.

Peeling off his shirt, Rin tosses it behind him as he dives in, gasping as he feels the cold salt water against his too warm skin.  His arms move as he drags himself forward, trying to get as far away from the shore as he possibly can.  It’s night, it’s dark, and this is stupid and dangerous, but he _doesn’t care_ because he just needs to be alone.  Even if it means doing something like this, even if it means abandoning Haruka on the beach alone - something he’ll feel eternally shitty for later.  So he swims out as far as he can, muscles aching and straining from the thrill of the competition this morning (swimming side-by-side with Haruka in the 100m free).  He swims until he can’t anymore.

Until he feels the warm grip of a hand around his ankle, tugging him to a stop.

“Rin!” Haruka calls, his voice muffled by the bobbing of the waves, dragging him under before pushing him up again.

Rin yanks his foot away, treading water and turning to stare at Haruka in the darkness of the ocean.  Through the pounding of his heart and his gulping breaths - through the incessant need to _swim_ and get away until he can sort this shit out - he can’t help but admire how Haruka’s hair is plastered to his face, how he’s shirtless and bobbing in the water as he watches Rin with a rare, deep fear laced with determination.  His jaw his set, his lips thin, and Rin isn’t sure whether he wants to laugh or cry.

Nanase Haruka chased after him.  Again.

“Stop running,” Haruka says.

“Then stop chasing me.”

Haruka’s frown deepens.  Clearly Rin’s attempt at humour was not well-met.

Taking in a deep breath, Haruka swims closer to Rin.  “You could _never_ scare me off.”

Rin swallows heavily, his heart stirring in his chest as he slowly swims backward.  “Haru…”  _Please don’t make me do this right now.  Please let me do this on my own terms._

But Haruka continues to swim closer, chasing after him even now.  The forming waves are moving them up and down as they head toward the shore, lapping at their chins, pushing them together and pulling them apart.  “You could _never_ scare me off, Rin,” Haruka repeats, and Rin swears this is the most Haruka’s ever said in his entire life.

But even that thought isn’t enough to stop the tears from forming at the corners of his eyes.  Because here it comes: the well-worded rejection, the moment he so wanted to avoid.  The inevitable loss of something that was once a beautiful dream and is now a waking nightmare.  He doesn’t want this right now.  _He can’t handle this right now._   But Haruka continues swimming closer until they’re pressed up against each other in the water, until he can feel the smooth nylon of his jammers as their legs brush together underneath the surface.

If this were any other time, he’d laugh.

But how can he, when everything hurts as much as it does.  How can he, when everything is falling to pieces in the most uncool and uncalculated way.

How can he, when Haruka is reaching out to cup his cheeks in his hands.

Rin’s heart stops as Haruka leans in close.  “Stop running,” he says, stroking his thumbs along the undersides of Rin’s eyes.  “Because I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”

And then Nanase Haruka does the unthinkable: he leans in to kiss him, gently and sweetly and everything Rin dreamed it would be.  (Without the fighting and the crying and the running and the swimming, of course.  Though maybe he’d imagined their first kiss would involve swimming, something shared after a sweet victory.)

Tears begin forming anew, just at the beautifully soft feeling of Haruka’s lips against his, pressed together with just enough strength to soothe the anxiety bubbling within him.  As Haruka pulls back and rests their foreheads together, it’s hard to tell if the tears have spilt onto his cheeks with the taste of salt water already on his tongue, but he doesn’t care.  Not when Haruka’s just kissed him and the world’s spinning as if he’s been turned around and flipped upside down.

In the wake of that, all Rin can say is, “What?”

And Haruka laughs, the sound quiet like the tinkling of a bell or the ringing of a wind chime.  “You’re so slow,” he says with a roll of his eyes and another small, beautiful smile.  Leaning in, he kisses Rin again, only this time Rin kisses back, wanting nothing more than to pull at Haruka and kiss him silly.  But he needs to stay afloat, so they swap kisses in the undulating ocean as they tread water, touching each other innocently underneath the forming waves and sighing against each others’ lips.

Rin can’t help the relief that washes through him with each gentle, loving kiss, almost as if the ocean waves themselves are rocking through him in comfort.  All these years spent holding himself back - this entire evening and a panic attack - and for _what?  Absolutely nothing._ Through his relief, he thinks himself an idiot for not bringing this up with Haruka earlier; for being afraid of what he would say or what he would do or the fragility of their relationship.  He was so wrong to doubt, so wrong to fear.

This just goes to show how right he is for one thing: falling for Nanase Haruka, of all people.  Haruka, the most unflappable man he knows.  Haruka, who spent years running from his future only to find his dream on the starting block of an Australian pool.  Haruka, who lights up his life like no one else could, who shows him new sights every day, whether they’re together or apart.

Haruka, who he’s madly, truly, deeply in love with.  And he wants to shout it to the shore - to the _whole damn world_ \- because those feelings, whole or a fraction, are reciprocated.

When they both pull back from their kisses - or one of them pulls back, it’s so hard to keep track when Rin’s going from happy to drunk to crying to kissing - Rin can’t help but laugh.  Haruka watches him happily, lovingly, before he dunks underneath the water.  Rin half-expects an attack from below, but Haruka comes back up instead, shaking the crisp, salty water from his bangs before he slides his legs against Rin’s.

“Race you back?” he asks, and Rin doesn’t even need to answer before they both take off toward the shore.

It doesn’t really matter who reaches the sand first (though Rin would argue that he was definitely the victor).  What _does_ matter is that they both collapse onto it almost immediately, wrapping themselves around each other and continuing where they left off.  Underneath the bright, beautiful light of the moon, the twinkling lights of a city just beyond their reach, they swap touches with each other happily, trading hushed whispers and quiet laughs between the gentle presses of their lips.

Eventually, they’ll make it back to their hotel rooms.  Just like eventually they’ll talk about this, though perhaps they won’t.  Perhaps they’ll leave it at this, content to stumble through the next steps of their relationship, just as they stumble through everything else.

Rin can’t find it in himself to care right now.  Not when he has Haruka wrapped around him as they lay in the sand.  Not when Haruka pulls back from a particularly mind-numbing kiss just to press their foreheads together and whisper four beautiful words against his lips and into the warm, summer evening air.

“I love you too.”

No, Rin can’t find it in himself to care at all.  Because this, just like everything else, they’ll chase together.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, everyone! ( ´͈ ◡ `͈ )


End file.
